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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22711903">Downpour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOnTheWind/pseuds/ZephyrOnTheWind'>ZephyrOnTheWind</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hanahaki [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:15:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>299</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22711903</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOnTheWind/pseuds/ZephyrOnTheWind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgotten, unrequited love</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hanahaki [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1163345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Downpour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Muriel's always had a scratch at the back of his throat, ever since he met Asra. He's never thought much of it, fine enough with how things were. It never got better, but it never got any worse.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>The first time he coughed was a Masquerade night.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>He considered himself lucky, that the petals stopped when Asra's friend died. That the petals stopped before they turned bloody. Before they turned into buds. He could barely stand fighting in the Coliseum. If he had been coughing up petals at the same time, it only would have made it worse. At least clearing his throat sounded like growls, and that was what was expected of him.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>The petals came back on a Masquerade night.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>They were few and far between, as Asra tended to his friend. Mostly a scratch, sometimes a cough, never petals for more than one night. Never more than a handful. Never more than could be shoved under a fur when Asra rushed his door with a limp body in his arms. It never got better.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>It was announced there would be another Masquerade night.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>For all Asra boasted of knowing him so well, Muriel hid the coughing from him. He never heard the fits of wheezing, gasping breaths, or saw the bloody petals and buds that would scatter across his hut. It didn't even take that much to hide it, no matter how much louder and bloodier Muriel's coughs became. Roots curled and fluttered in his lungs whenever Asra stopped by to ask for help, but he never noticed. It was easy to not notice.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>He never knew.<div class="center">
  <p>~~~</p>
</div>Asra stopped asking for help. A pouch of myrrh was added back to Muriel's shelf. A flower, roots and all, was composted next to his hut.<p>The scratching stopped.</p>
  </div></div>
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